Here I Am
by Mucada
Summary: All his chances were gone, but Remus tries one more time to learn his friend again after years of forgetting, and to understand that life had failed them both. No slash.


Title: Here I Am  
Author: Mucada  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: It's not stealing, only borrowing temporarily.  
Summary: All his chances were gone, but Remus tries one more time to learn his friend again after years of forgetting, and to understand that life had failed them both. No slash.

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_Half of the time we're gone but we don't know where  
And we don't know where_  
-Paul Simon

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In the darkness of night, a man walks down the empty street, his boot heels clicking against the pavement in precise steps. He turns his high collar to the cool night, and then pushes his long hands into his pockets. The moon is almost full above Central London, and its face lights the city's dark streets. The sound of the man's brisk footsteps ends, and he enters an old, red phone booth at the corner. Several panels of glass are missing, and the door doesn't even shut completely. The man takes no notice to the broken phone, and picks up the receiver, unfazed by the fact that it is completely detached from the body. He dials the correct number on the touchpad, and suddenly, he is gone.

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It felt like he was riding a muggle elevator, and as it quickly approached its destination, he could feel his stomach rising. He exited the phone booth, and stood in the magnificent hall. The only sound that could be heard was the fountain in the centre. The corridors of power, he thought. It slept like a restless beast. In a few hours, it would be alive again, with people running to work.

He walked past the front desk, which was now vacant, and entered the elevator. He pressed number nine, and waited for it to stop before exiting the doors. The Department of Mysteries.

Down the long corridor he walked, again in silence. His heart beat wildly, and his anxiety grew, so he picked up his pace until he reached the end. He counted the correct number of doors before opening the last one. He entered the dimly lit room and headed forth to the center, where a tattered black veil hung unsupported. It swayed gently, as if an invisible breeze caught in its fabric. The rest of the stone room had a cold, almost stale feeling to it, and he wrapped his coat more tightly around his thin frame. Whispers could be heard, and automatically he thought they were coming from his own mind.

But he knew better. Standing in front of the veil, voices echo against the walls. He walked to the other side of the curtain, and there was nothing there, only still air that causes the cloth to sway gently. He doesn't touch it, or stand near it. He sat down on the cold ground, his legs drawn up. He has a sudden flashback from his schooldays, and it comes like a dream: he is a young boy sitting isolated in an old room, in front of a grand mirror. In the reflection he sees himself as a young man, cast in darkness and only shadowed by the light of the full moon.

He was reminded of the Mirror of Erised, because he sat in front of the veil, waiting and wishing for some sort of condolence to help him understand.

He couldn't make out the quiet whispers, but he listened in vain, hoping.

"Sirius," he said, so quietly he could barely hear himself.

There was silence, and he whispered again hesitantly, "Sirius?"

A great invisible wind picked up the cloth and it blew forth, and as he looked past it nothing could be seen except what was on the other side of the archway, the stone walls and floor of the room. He wind ruffled his hair gently, and he moved closer to the veil, again repeating in a louder voice, "Sirius! Please…"

More dead silence. He could feel his heartbeat quicken, and there was more wind. He pleaded for some sign, anything, even if the whispers returned, just to tell him he was still there.

"I'm here, mate," a voice from behind the veil whispered.

He could feel tears cramming behind his eyes, and he shifted onto his knees, his palms against the hard floor.

"Remus?" the voice said again, this time louder than a whisper.

"I'm right here, Sirius," he answered quickly, almost frantically.

"I know."

"Why can't I see you? There's nothing behind-"

"I'm here. I'm really here." Remus had no doubt in his mind that is was Sirius talking. He could hear the frustration in his voice creeping up, like he was trying to suppress any other emotion at the moment. The familiarity of it made his eyes blur.

"I should be able to reach out-"

"Don't!" The black frayed veil bounced, as if the shout of his voice pushed it. "Don't, Remus. You have to resist it."

"There's nothing to resist, there's only air behind it."

"No," he replied sharply. Again, the cloth moved.

"I don't understand," he murmured.

"I tried, Remus. To reach you."

"When?"

"In your sleep, but you were too far away."

"I-" But Remus didn't know what to say. It was true: he didn't sleep much anymore. He had taken to sitting up at night, doing anything but sleeping. He was afraid of what his dreams would be.

Instead, he started out like he went over in his mind earlier: "I just wanted to talk, even if it is one last time."

"We can't talk."

"What?"

"We aren't talking." Remus opened his mouth, and realized for the first time it had been closed the entire time he sat in front of the veil. His breath quickened.

"Remus?"

He wasn't sure how to respond. He was almost certain…

"Yeah. I'm still here," he replied almost flatly.

"I was sure that this would never come, you know. You had been so distant and I couldn't grasp anything, to find you."

"I'm sorry, Sirius."

In Remus' mind, he could almost see Sirius making that offhanded look, brushing off his comment impatiently.

"Don't. We're here now. What's on your mind?"

Now, Remus didn't know what to say. He had gone over everything he needed to tell him before, but now all his thoughts were disarray.

"I… I wanted something of you, I guess," he stated out, feeling lame. "I felt robbed."

"I feel robbed too."

"We never..." he paused, unsure. Sirius didn't respond, patient. "We never really talked, after all those years. I just felt…like I never really knew you."

"Remus-"

"No, please, I need to say this. It just felt odd, you know, you coming back that night when Peter escaped, and I expected you to be the same as you were when we were in school. For those 13 years I never imagined you…growing up. I just pushed you out of my mind, and it was so damn hard to bring you back there, especially since you were so different than when I last saw you." He voice was cracking, but he continued, "The last couple of years weren't enough for me, Sirius."

"I know, mate. I'm sorry."

"Me too."

They didn't speak for a few moments, and Remus sat, his head down. He wanted the distance between them to close some way, for Sirius to walk through the veil and be with him again. He was there, yet not, and he tried to feel his friend's presence.

"I thought of you," Sirius said, "all the time while in Azkaban. I wondered constantly how you were fairing, how you lived, where you lived.

"And I never learned anything about you. I regret us not being close enough when we were young," his voice sounded like it echoed against walls, calm and clear.

"I did fine," he said, through his tears.

"No you didn't."

"I know," he replied, smiling.

"I wish I lived, Remus. For all those years I wish I lived." He said from behind the veil, as tears fell from Remus' eyes.

"I wish so too, Sirius."

As Remus sat on the floor, he thought of how Sirius could have felt, what emotions he never told him. He must have felt robbed of life just as Remus felt robbed from their friendship. Remus remembered when they were young, and how they left the world open to them, so eager to live. To have that taken from him, and then to have it given back, after all those years only to have it taken away again, he had to have felt cheated.

"Can you do something for me, Remus?"

"Anything."

"Will you promise me to not forget me?"

"I would never." The tears came freely now, and they traveled down his cheeks onto his lips.

"I felt forgotten all those years, and I don't want to disappear now. Okay?"

"Of course."

"You're good, Remus. Remember that. Don't forget yourself either."

"I won't."

"I have to leave, Moony."

He didn't protest. "I know. I will never let you be forgotten, Sirius."

He didn't have to call out for Sirius then, because he knew he was gone. He didn't question it in his mind. He let go of him, and let himself leave the grey room in slow and silent steps. Outside of the Ministry, the sun was rising over the city, just barely shedding light on the morning. He walked down the sidewalks, down the deserted streets of Central London. His body felt like he just had a good long cry, but he realized as he walked that he was still weeping silently.

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A/N: Although I am not fond of Sirius Black's character (at times I can almost detest him) I view he and Remus' friendship as harsh and confusing, yet beautiful at the same time. Sirius' life was so tragic, because he never really got the chance to have one. Their friendship is even more tragic because they cared so much about each other, in their own ways, and they were denied the chance to ever truly learn each other. That's what I felt I showed here.

Please tell me what you think. :)


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